


Genesis

by thatonewriterchick



Category: Neverwinter (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Neverwinter - Freeform, OC, Original Character - Freeform, cleric, game start
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 19:13:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13530783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatonewriterchick/pseuds/thatonewriterchick
Summary: Character origins, but with a very emotional cleric.





	Genesis

**Author's Note:**

> I had such an emotional reaction to creating my cleric that I just had to write something for him. I found his emotional-ness(?) really cute!

"You're too kind for this world, Alaric."

Elder Espin's whispery words were familiar, though the tone always differed. Affectionate and grateful when Alaric hefted the heaviest of tombs without being prompted. Chiding and thoughtful when Alaric, a man of almost twenty winters, had cried over the rabbit his healing magic couldn't save. This time, it was resigned but kind as the pair stood on the docks of Luruar.

"I've learned all that I can as I am now, Elder," Alaric reminded him, a conversation that has been had many times. "Neverwinter has even more scholars and warlocks and healers than-"

"Here where it is peaceful," Espin finished, his hunched shoulders shaking with his wheezy laugh. "And boring. I remember what it is to be young."

Alaric began to protest, to explain that there was much more to his departure, but the elder continued, his watery gray gaze growing serious.

"You're one of my best pupils, Alaric. Talented and kind. But from the moment you step on this boat, you must also remember to be wary. The world is not as kind as it appears."

"I'll remember, Elder," Alaric vowed, tipping his head respectfully. "And I'll keep an eye out for those missing volumes on draconic runestones."

"Always a thoughtful lad," Espin chuckled, patting his shoulder. "But your safe return is all I ask for."

 

 

Two weeks on the sea and Alaric had gotten used to the gentle sway of the ship beneath his feet, the misty spray of the sea, the rowdy, controlled chaos that was the crew. The sun browned his already olive skin further and he learned the way sailors used the  He was dozing off in his bunk when the screams started, yanking him out of his hazy half thoughts.

He'd rushed to the deck to find men yelling and dying, a dragon of bone and blue-white hellfire screaming as it doused the ship in flames...

 

 

Sea water burned its way out of him, spilling over his chin as he gasped for air. Someone was speaking to him, weary and relieved, but Alaric couldn't focus past the need for air.

"You're alive..." Came a male voice.

Alaric was. The only one, in fact.

 

"Hold on, Wilfred..." Alaric choked as he rushed to his side. Tears blurred the cleric's vision as he knelt beside the soldier, cobblestone biting into his knees, raising trembling hands over the other male.

 

Wilfred was babbling about some man named Knox, about visiting his mother. The tears plopping onto the dying man's face didn't seem to register, nor the ones that trickled from his own eyes.

 

"My friends," Wilfred gasped.  An ugly wet sound followed and then blood gurgled up. The magic's yellow glow washed over his face, his rolling eyes and illuminated the dark wetness spreading despite the supernatural power stitching him back up. "She...killed them...all."

 

A sob burst from Alaric's throat as he pushed the last of his reserves into Wilfred, though he knew it was useless. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." His voice sounded faint to his own ears.

 

"Promise...find Knox..." Wilfred took another hiccuping breath and stilled.

 

"I will," Alaric managed shaking hands falling to his thighs. "I will."


End file.
